LADY MARY W. MONTAGU.
Love in a hut, with water and a crust,
Is--Lord forgive us!--cinders, ashes, dust.
_Lamia_. J. KEATS.
The cold in clime are cold in blood,
Their love can scarce deserve the name.
_The Giaour_. LORD BYRON.
Love in your hearts as idly burns
As fire in antique Roman urns.
_Hudibras, Pt. II. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.
LOVE'S DELIGHT.
All the heart was full of feeling: love had ripened into speech,
Like the sap that turns to nectar, in the velvet of the peach.
_Adonais_. W.W. HARNEY.
O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, move
The bloom of young Desire and purple light of Love.
_Progress of Poesy_, L 3. T. GRAY.
Still amorous, and fond, and billing.
Like Philip and Mary on a shilling.
_Hudibras, Pt. III. Canto I_. S. BUTLER.
Then awake!--the heavens look bright, my dear!
'Tis never too late for delight, my dear!
And the best of all ways
To lengthen our days,
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
_Young May Moon_. T. MOORE.
Lovers' hours are long, though seeming short.
_Venus and Adonis_. SHAKESPEARE.
And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew.
_Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII_. MILTON.
Why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on.
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